


Nintendo

by Chocobofever



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, M/M, Slytherin Harry, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 15:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3855496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocobofever/pseuds/Chocobofever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter is attending Hogwarts fifty years before his time and thinks it's too strenuous for something he's already done. Like, really? Sixth year didn't use to be this hard...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nintendo

**Author's Note:**

> Why a timetravel fic? Because there aren't nearly enough of them out there. Like, Sirius-ly. 
> 
> (I know, I'm bad. Ignore me please. (=.=) )

Harry sighed at the very red TROLL marked on top of his recently returned assignment. It appeared to be one of those, the kind where the scientists of magic would change their mind on magical theory somewhere between now and fifty years in the future, and Harry not being quite as enlightened as he perhaps should, had automatically scribbled the drivel they taught in his time instead of the stuff they believed in right now.

A waste of time if you asked Harry, but MacGonagall had not thought so in the future and Professor Nittlepink certainly did not think so in this time.

"For those of you who have neglected to study and thought it appropriate to hand in FAIRY TALES, would you please find your way to the Headmaster's office right after class, thank you. He wishes to have a word with you."

Absolutely fucking fantastic. Harry stared down at the damned paper in his hand, wishing it would shrivel and blacken into a tiny crisp. A loud shriek woke him up from his musings, making him realize that the paper in his hand really WAS shrivelling and blackening, a tiny flame rising off one corner just inches off his right hand. "Professor!" someone shouted and Harry hurried to flap with the paper to extinguish the flame on it.

"Mr. Akerman!" "

I'm on it, Professor! Sorry!" said Harry, relieved to see the flame die out. Heavy stomping feet could be heard nearing him and the shriveled paper, barely a third of its original size, was yanked out of his grip.

"This... Never in my years..."

Harry grimaced. "I'm sorry..." Hopefully he wouldn't be made to rewrite it. She couldn't demand that he do, could she? It had been a Troll anyway...

"You, boy, are coming with me to see the Headmaster instantly. Class! You're dismissed- no Transfiguration's homework for the the rest of the week. I'm certain you'll have enough on your mind with Potions this week as Professor Slughorn keyed me in that you will be working on something very special. You, Mr. Akerman, come. Come! Leave your bag, the elves will have it delivered to your dorm."

Harry was yanked out of his chair by the wrist, dragged out of the classroom before he could say "Leviosa!" (or "Levi-o-SA" as Hermione would say it).

  
The door to Dumbledore's waiting room, er, he supposed it was Dippet's waiting room right now, swished open as the gargoyles posted outside let someone through. Harry lifted his head from the chair he'd been twiddling his thumbs in for the past twenty minutes, eyes narrowing slightly upon the sight of the person who stepped through. Tom Riddle looked up in surprise, showing none of the discontent that Harry always felt whenever in the presence of his former (future?) nemesis.    
  
"In trouble, Mr. Akerman? I had hoped you wouldn't be the kind," said the prefect in an annoyingly perfect, honeyed voice. It wasn't like Harry  
  
Harry had only known Tom Riddle through the diary and always felt put off balance when the youth actually addressed him directly. There was a part of him that always expected the youth to behave as if Harry was not there.  
  
"Yeah. Nittlepick- I mean Nittlepink is, er..." Realizing that he'd screwed that up majorly Harry did the wise thing and shut up entirely, wishing he could sew his mouth shut and never speak another word in the forties' again. It was so hard speaking in a way that wasn't "boorish" or "too muggle" by their absolutely ridiculous standards, even when he was trying his hardest to be perfectly polite! And when wanting to simply relax and transfer his thoughts to another living  being in relative proximity to himself... It was simply impossible.  
  
"What did you do?" asked Riddle, voice dipping ominously. Harry grimaced, remembering that yes, in this time he was a Slytherin and Riddle actually had a perfectly valid reason for delving into his misbehaving business.  
  
"I wrote an assignment without reading the appropriate chapters in the book," admitted Harry without shame.  
  
Riddle's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "A terrible misdeed certainly, but hardly one that merits a visit to the Headmaster's office." His eyes flickered to the closed door leading to Dippet's inner office. "Unless you did something else. Is Professor Nittlepink conversing with Headmaster Dippet currently?"  
  
"Yes," said Harry slowly, certain that Riddle was reading more into the situation that he was able to.  
  
"Yes, you did something else, or yes, Professor Nittlepink is in the Headmaster's office right now?"  
  
Harry's left eyebrow twitched in annoyance. "Yes to both," he admitted. "And that obviously means more to you than it does to me. Care to share your deductions, Sherlock?"  
  
Riddle's lip twisted up subtly. He wasn't quite "the cat who ate the canary", but that was the closest Harry could come to describing the oddly handsome yet creepily cold expression on his face. Tom Riddle was obviously pleased, due to having control over Harry or for knowing something that other people did not, and the bespectacled brunette did not even need the pain in his scar to know it.  
  
Harry didn't have time to ponder it further however, for his long wait came to an abrupt end when the door to Dippet's office was thrown open.  
  
"Akerman, please make your way inside in an immediate manner- " began an alarmingly red faced Professor Nittlepink, before coming to an abrupt stop as her eyes fell on the other student in the room. "M-Mr. Riddle," she stuttered. Her gaze darted back and forth between Riddle, Harry and the office she had come from, obviously thinking she needed to do something, but forgetting what she'd been about to.  
  
"Good evening, Professor. Is Headmaster Dippet currently occupied? I needed to have a word with him, there are some issues with the Students' Association that need his approval," said Riddle, suddenly with a very charming smile on his lips.   
  
"I... Yes, I..." began Professor Nittlepink, starting to consicuously redden in the face, but before she could find her words Riddle had already cut her off.  
  
"You're done? Excellent," said Riddle, and without waiting for any further response he suddenly grabbed on to a gaping Harry's wrist. "If you'll excuse us," he said, and then gave no other explanation before dragging the too-shocked-to-protest ex-Gryffindor in through the door to Dippet's office.

The door swung closed behind them and Harry only managed to catch glimpse of Riddle's wand as it was already disappearing back into the folds of his robes. Harry, wide eyed, met Riddle's eyes for a very short moment before the prefect tore his gaze away. 

"I did not expect your presence, Mr. Riddle, but it is of course as welcome as always," said Dippet, looking vaguely puzzled before his face lit up suddenly. "You're here for young Harold, are you not? Good, very good! I always said you would make an excellent Headboy..." 

"Of course, Headmaster," said Riddle with a smile, making no effort to either confirm or deny the Headmaster's assumption. Harry's jaw fell. No way could it be that easy. 

"Yes, yes," said Dippet, reciprocrating the gesture, looking like an senile old man who enjoyed looking down at the papers on his desk. "The good professor came with some disconcerting news earlier, Mr... Er, Harold." Harry was pretty sure Dippet had forgotten his last name. And possibly Nittlepink's as well. "Would you mind telling me what happened today in class, using your own words?"

"I wrote an assignment without reading the appropriate chapters in the book. I was, er, rather tired the night before we had to return it, sir," said Harry. In honest English that meant he'd half-assed it like he always did, only usually it would be enough for a passable grade at the very least. Since he'd passed sixth year once already he thought it unfair that he would have to suffer through the painstaking assignments again. As it would turn out, many of the lesson plans were EXACTLY THE SAME as they would be nearly fifty years in the future.  
  
"And then?" prompted Dippet, revealing that he was more interested in the "firescapade" later on in the story. Or maybe he didn't care one way or the other and just wanted to be done with it, who knew.  
  
"And then I, er, lit the assignment paper on fire. But it was all an accident, sir! I didn't even have my wand out."  
  
Dippet blinked and Harry sensed a sudden stillness settle over the office.  
  
Riddle was the first to speak. "You performed accidental magic?" Harry glanced at him; Riddle's voice sounded weird.  
  
"Everybody does it," he said defensively.  
  
Dippet cleared his throat.  
  
Riddle spoke again. "No, after they receive their wands they do not. One might say it is very rare even."  
  
Oh my god. This was... This was could not be happening, not again.  
  
"Mr. Harold..." began Dippet.  
  
"I lied," said Harry suddenly, insistently. In his mind, only the words NEVER AGAIN repeated over and over. "I had my wand hidden in my pocket and I, er, I wanted it to appear as if I'd done the magic... Wandlessly." And wordlessly, but hopefully nobody would catch on to that. He could always claim he'd whispered the words. He didn't think anyone had been close enough or attentive enough to challenge it. "In reality... In reality I hated that scroll of paper because it reminded me of my failure. Yes, that's right! I.. I wanted it to... suffer." That sounded stupid, didn't it? Holy hell he was a bad liar. "I'm sorry, Professor, it won't happen again!"  
  
To Harry's relief Dippet's eyes lit up. He didn't dare look at Riddle, who was very still beside him.  
  
"Oh. Oh! So you admit to doing it deliberately?" asked the Headmaster, sounding as relieved as Harry was feeling. The ex-Gryffindor nodded vigorously. "Excellent! I mean, er, that is very bad of you... But it's great that we got this issue solved. One hour of detention for you, I should think. Mr. Riddle, you'll see to it, won't you?"  
  
"Yes... Of course."  
  
Harry wanted to laugh in relief. Riddle was playing along... For the moment.


End file.
